The three main areas here are Kuala Tahan town itself, the river bank with all its floating restaurants and the north side of the river, technically national park land, where the only resort in the park (Mutiara) is located. I explore them all after getting settled down into lodgings, which took some effort to find. Tourists, particularly French families, occupy the latter two, and in the first backpackers just manage to outweigh locals. There are very, very few Chinese or Malaysian tourists – nearly everyone is French or German, with a few English as well. If beer were cheaper, and there were more neon, it would feel like Khao San Road – and what a weird place that was. I return to my room and sit on my bed, thinking.

I don’t get it. First of all, Malaysia is not on the typical backpacker itinerary, many skipping through it en route to Thailand from Singapore, and Kuala Lumpur is where they usually do stop. Yet I’ve seen more here than there. Secondly, why are there so many French families? I confirm from my French mother that nothing too special is happening in France at the moment – it’s the summer holidays, but they started ages ago and won’t finish for ages yet. Wine is expensive in Malaysia, and even more so in Kuala Tahan and as for cheese – well, you won’t find anything the French like can tolerate do not consider torture.

“People just want to see the jungle, Shaun.”

Well I could definitely see the attraction in that regard for KL-ites, but for tourists with time to expend I would have expected them to make a beeline for somewhere where one has a sizeable chance of seeing something bigger than a deer. It’s more impressive than Thailand or Borneo scenery-wise, I’ll give it that. But when people think of the jungle, there’s no denying the animals are what comes to mind. Perhaps they were fooled by the hype? After all, numerous websites market the resident tigers, rhinos and bears without mentioning that you’ve a higher chance of getting malaria in Siberia than seeing one here. Or perhaps it’s a crowd mentality? Whatever the reason, Kuala Tahan is the biggest tourist town I’ve seen in Malaysia, and I don’t know why.

I take an exploratory walk from Mutiara, where the park HQ is also located, up to one of the hides. Along the way I stop to chat to a couple of hikers, who ask me when I last checked for leaches. Err, I haven’t at all. Pulling up my trouser leg reveals four entrenched, and three additional invaders incoming. I flick them off, but one is meant to deal with biting leeches by letting them fill up and then let go. My leg bleeds for some time after thanks to my ignorance.

Having a rough idea of the place’s layout, I decide to return here in the evening when it’s cooler and hopefully more animals will have emerged. I don’t blame them for being inactive right now, though. I never thought my current level of sweat possible, and a civilised sip of water quickly turns into chugging half the bottle. I spot a couple of deer, and a bat perches right in front of me, allowing for the best shots of one from my trip. Walking at night is perfectly safe, due to the high presence of humans and absence of anything dangerous, but it’s an unproductive walk.

The next morning is off to an early start, while the morning mist is still hanging low and the birding is more fruitful, just like the trees. The boardwalks around Mutiara and the nearby hide are full of them: a peacock-pheasant scurries under the boardwalk; green leafbirds and fairy bluebirds feed on figs in front of the hide before being rudely interrupted by the presence of a hawk-eagle; and jambu fruit doves, beautiful pigeons with pink heads and green wings, force me to abandon my sense of shame and stand in front of a cul-de-sac of folks having morning coffee on the terrace, watching me with looks that say “fudge off you young scallywag, we’re on holiday here!”

The paths instigate my second “I don’t get it” moment, albeit a more pleasant one. I return to them in the late afternoon, after a bouncy stroll on the canopy walkway, and despite the heat, much of the wildlife is rising and shining. Before taking a leak, I realise I’m not alone; there’s a viper coiled around a branch above me. Moving on, a small lizard dashes up a tree trunk and then glides to another a few metres away. When I see a new bird, I put down “black and red broadbill” as a description on my phone for when I identify it later – and that turns out to be its name. A supposedly quiet park at a usually quiet time (based on experience). “I don’t get it”.

My last activity, a night safari, is one I’ve to-and-fro-ed about going on. It had been discouraged by guidebooks, travel blogs, Tripadvisor and very trusted friends, two of whom had been on one the previous night. On top of that, I had seen some of the vehicles the night before, laden with masses of tourists. Most of the complaints stemmed from this and the fact that the trucks go into the palm plantations rather than the jungle itself. In spite of all this, safaris had turned up some rather interesting animals on previous occassions, so I brace myself for a touristy, completely unnatural experience for the chance to put something new onto my list.

However, there’s a pleasant surprise waiting for me. There are only four other people in the truck, including two I had met previously – a complete coincidence – and as we set off we get our first rare species; a careful driver. There is a platform on the roof where the spotlight guy harnesses himself in. He’s worth his salt, as he shares some facts about what we’re seeing. We first see a bright pair of eyes, shining blue, a cat apparently, but he dashes my hopes that it might be a leopard cat. Their eyes shine red, and we move on without lingering. A series of red dots moves about in one tree. Another thing I like about this guide; he doesn’t jump to conclusions like others would in a feeble attempt to keep customers satisfied. At first he’s 75% sure it’s a flying squirrel, giving his reasons why and what else it could be. He quickly eliminates slow loris, as they’re moving too fast, and slowly judges that they’re not civets, as gatherings for them are rare. Eventually, the size confirms that it’s a family of flying squirrels.

Already we’ve seen enough to keep me happy. But then, a flash of red appears as though someone just fired a laser gun at us. Sure enough, it’s a leopard cat, crouching in the short grass and no bigger than a house cat. If cats had commandos, it would surely join them as it only raises itself a little to move at a speed we would consider a jog. It climbs a sandbank, each paw placed so carefully that not a single pebble falls. They are much more common in Malaysia than Thailand, where they are hunted for their fur; it takes 17 cats to make one coat.

The guide has an interesting story to tell us about them; he once found one badly injured by the roadside, and took it home to nurse it back to health. Now, most people will have had a story of trying to persuade their partners or mum to get a cat/dog, and how successfully that ends is 50/50. Anyway, sure enough his wife had something to say about this, and that something was; “what is a baby tiger doing here?”

That alone would have been a fantastic end to the trip, but two more highlights show themselves. The first occurs when I go out that night to brush my teeth, and spot something clambering up the tree which then glides over to the next; it’s a colugo, rather like a flying squirrel but absolutely massive and in a family of its own. The next is on the boat out of Kuala Tahan, a more touristy step but a worthwhile one on the journey back to Kuala Lumpur. On the jungle side, a rooster appears. Saying one has seen jungle-fowl is always rather wild-card as most people keep chickens and these roam about, but this time there are no farms for miles around.

I’ve gotten closer to “getting it”. It’s a nice national park with a lot to its name. On the unfortunate side, many people do come here thinking they will see plenty without trying, which isn’t true; Taman Negara makes you work hard for what it has, but rewarded me nicely. A sour aftertaste is all too common, sadly, thanks to the shady marketing and under-delivering tour agencies that fester in Kuala Tahan. I’m happy to be able to say that whilst I sipped my tiger beer in KL, I could look back on my past three days and say to myself; “I enjoyed myself”. Since I wish the same for you, here’s how I did it.